_Love Slighted._

Love built a chamber in my heart, A daintier ne’er was seen, ’Twas filled with books and gems of art, And all that makes a lover’s part True homage to his Queen.

The ceiling was of silver bright That showed the floor below; The walls were hung with silk so white That e’en the mirror was to sight A slope of driven snow.

Then Love threw open wide the door, And sang, as in a dream, A song as sweet as bird can pour Above the sunlight-marbled floor Of some clear forest stream.

He sang of youth that ne’er grows old, Of flowers that ne’er decay, Of wine whose sweetness is not told, Of honour bright, and courage bold, And faith more fair than they.

And many a maiden passed me by, Though some would hear and start, But thought the singing was so high, It came from somewhere in the sky, And not from my poor heart.

So years have come and years have flown Adown the sunset hill, But Love still sits and sings alone, And, though his voice has sweeter grown, My heart is empty still.